


Yellow Nail Polish

by Corvid_Knight



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Nail Polish, fluffy shit, my tumblr is knight-of-heart-and-art, something like that, toxic masculinity aftermath?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 03:35:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid_Knight/pseuds/Corvid_Knight
Summary: Karkat paints Dave's nails."How about this one?" You hold up a bottle of painfully bright yellow polish, grinning at him. "Maybe with some red and blue. Sollux'd love it. ""Sollux doesn't give a shit about what my claws look like, and you know it." He rolls his eyes, tossing the paper towel he's been working on his nails with down and leaning over to take the bottle out of your hand. "How about this—I paint mine this color, and you let me do yours?"





	Yellow Nail Polish

You've seen Karkat paint his nails before. He does it every week; the chemical scent of nail polish in the main room would be one way for you to define the passage of time if you weren't already a Time player. So it's not a new thing, the fact that he's sitting on the floor by the couch, scrubbing at his nails (well, on a troll they're more like claws, crow's talons, something like that) as he tries to get last week's sky blue off, expose the bright red natural color underneath.

Your decision to sit down next to him and start digging through the box of nail polish, though? That's kinda new. You haven't done it before, anyway; nail polish isn't a thing that you really go for. 

(That's definitely not because of the memory of when you were like eight and you thought your nails would look awesome if you filled them in with a red sharpie. Not because of the memory of how pissed Bro was about that.)

"So what's the color of choice today, dude? Pink? Green? Red?" 

Karkat spares you one glance, equal parts annoyed and amused. "Fuck off, Strider." 

"Nah. How about this one?" You hold up a bottle of painfully bright yellow polish, grinning at him. "Maybe with some red and blue. Sollux'd love it. " 

"Sollux doesn't give a shit about what my claws look like, and you know it." He rolls his eyes, tossing the paper towel he's been working on his nails with down and leaning over to take the bottle out of your hand. "How about this—I paint mine this color, and you let me do yours?" 

"Uh..." Shit. The idea of having him focused on you, fixing your nails, just paying that much attention to you, that sounds awesome. The idea of actually painting your nails just sounds like a shortcut to another fucking mental crisis. You can just imagine the moment that Rose notices them and says something that's probably meant to sound pretty nice, a compliment that isn't really meant to be double-edged or cutting or anything, but you're gonna fucking grin and say something stupid back and then go try to scrape your goddamn nails off just so you don't have to think about the fact that you let him paint your nails, like a fucking girl, like you're gay, like—

"Fuck, Dave, I didn't think that was a question you needed to fucking ponder." Karkat huffs, unscrewing the bottle and starting on his left hand, quickly coating each claw without looking up at you. "You don't have to do it." 

"Yeah." But he's already painting his claws yellow. Filling his half the bargain. "I just—" 

You have no fucking clue how to explain how you both want him to paint your nails but also just know that painting your nails is something you're not allowed to do. It's something you can't do, not really, every-fucking-body knows that normal guys don't paint their nails. But you can't just say that to him, because Karkat's just going to look blankly confused and then point out that yes, he paints his nails, Gamzee does, Eridan did, and they're normal, he's normal, right? 

Right? 

God, culture gap is gonna kill you, isn't it? 

"I wanna match you," you say, finally, watching him finish his right hand and go back to do a second coat on the left. "Plus, Terezi doesn't like yellow all that much, right? Oughta give me a nice shield against her for a couple days."

Yeah, act like it's got a purpose beyond wanting attention and—and the maybe-gay shit that you don't know if you want to think about right now. That'll help. 

"It'll keep her from slobbering all over your hands, yeah." Karkat nods, still focused on his own claws, then jerks his head at the bottle of nail polish remover. "Wipe your nails down with that, okay?" 

"Yeah." You nod back, and grab for the bottle. 

Nail polish remover is cold and feels weird as fuck on your hands, but you were kind of ready for that. Not like you haven't handled this stuff before, after all; it's really helpful for getting sharpie off things. Like skin. Means you don't have to live with dicks on your arms until they wear off. 

By the time you put the cap back on the bottle, Karkat's watching you, waiting for you to hold out a hand for him. Which you do. With absolutely no hesitation. Not even a little. 

Okay, maybe a little, because Karkat raises an eyebrow. "You know it comes off, right?" he asks gently. "I don't get why you're freaking out—" 

"Who's freaking out? Not me. I'm fine, man, totally chill—" 

"You're such a fucking liar." 

"Nah. You gonna put that on me or not?" 

He just grumbles, scowling at you in a way that you easily read as concern before nodding. "Fine." 

You watch him stroke the brush across the nail on your index finger. Then you decide that you do not, in fact, want to watch this process, and watch him instead. 

Shit, he's adorable when he's focused on something. Just completely zoned in, teeth worrying gently at his lower lip, giving his head an occasional tiny shake to get his hair out of his face. He's about due for a haircut, actually; you'll ask him about it maybe tomorrow. It'll take another couple days to talk him into letting you anywhere near his head with scissors, of course; maybe you'll ask Kanaya to offer to do it. Not that he'll let her, of course; Karkat told you last time that you gave him a haircut that he doesn't want anyone he's not in a quadrant with getting that close to him with sharp objects. 

You guess maybe he made an exception for you. You're only kind of in any kind of relationship with him, even if you take into account the whole moirail thing. Still—

Karkat surprises you by looking up and meeting your eyes—at this distance, he can probably see right through your shades, actually see your eyes. He just stares for a second, then shakes his head, smiling reluctantly as he screws the top back on the bottle. "Guess what." 

"My nails look rad?" They actually do, you realize as you look down at them. The yellow looks brighter against your skin than it does against Karkat's grey skin. Neat. 

"Yeah, that too. You're fucking up my quadrants again, asshole." 

He's started making a habit of telling you that, whenever you do something that's not normal-troll-policy, when you manage to blur the lines between black, pale, and red. Half the time you don't have a fucking clue how you did it. Right now, though? It's got to be because you're both annoying him during his routine, and doing something that probably counts as bonding shit. 

"Black and pale?" you guess, but he's shaking his head at the first word. 

"Pale and red." 

"Uh." Wait, red? "Why red?" 

Karkat shrugs, considering his answer for a moment. "You're looking at me like _that._ " 

"Like what?" 

" _That._ Fucking red as hell." He examines his own nails, glancing up at you and frowning as he figures out that you're obviously a little conflicted about the fact your, uh...well, shit, you don't know what to call it, but it's definitely showing. 

(Crush. It's a fucking crush. You like him, and this isn't really anything new, and maybe he knows it, but you're really uncomfortable thinking about it right now.) 

"So...pale?" you ask, just to get him to define that too. 

"Oh." Thank god Karkat's willing to get off the subject. "Claws and horns, taking care of them, that's a thing you do with your moirail. You _can_ do it with other quadrants—hell, you can let your friends groom you if you want—but handling this shit is something moirails do to destress." He picks your hand up, turning it to check out your new lemon-yellow manicure and comparing it to his own. "Of course, if it doesn't work like that for you, we can put 'painting Dave's nails' on the shit list." 

"Uh." The shit list is an actual thing that exists. It's written in orange sharpie, with maybe ten items on it so far. It's things that can upset either you or Karkat, things that you're both careful not to make the other do. Mostly it's a list of movies that've made either you or him panic. "Uh...leave it off the shit list. I'm okay." 

"You're sure?" The scowl he aims at you would be worrisome if you didn't know him so well. 

"Yeah, I'm sure." You spread your fingers out and look down at your nails. They _do_ look good, even as short as they are. "...I like this." 

"Cool. Want me to put a clear coat on? It'll make it stay longer." 

"Nah. Gotta give you incentive to do 'em again next time, right?" Plus, if you do end up needing the polish off _right fucking now_ at some point, it'll be easier to do if there's not clear over it. You think. "Hey, Karkat?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Do I get to do yours next time?" 

He sighs, loud and obviously overdramatic. "I _guess._ But if you fuck up, you have to listen to me tell you how to do it properly and _fix_ it." 

"Fair enough." 

You wonder what Rose is going to have to say about your nails. 

Whatever it is, you guess you can handle it. Karkat's grinning as he shoves the polishes you pulled out back into their box, and for that you can get around your stupid leftover bad thoughts. 

And your nails do look very nice.


End file.
